Chapter 123

Chapter 123
Lucian’s POV

When the votes came in later, I lost by only one vote. It was decided then: Alpha George was to become commanding Alpha of the million-man army we had to pull together to fight the Rogue King. Honestly, I did not mind, even though Edgar seemed rather annoyed. What mattered was that I could find a way to protect my pack and my men, regardless of what was happening everywhere else. It sounded selfish and a bit morbid, but it was the best I could do at this time.

Once the meeting was over, Edgar and I walked about the palace with little to do. I could tell that there was a lot on his mind that he wanted to share with me—perhaps talk more about the rogue attacks and everything that had been going on. But he also knew that my mind was heavy because Samara was missing. It broke me that she had been within my reach, and somehow I had managed to lose her again.

If I told my mother about this, what would she say? Would she blame me? And if she did, she would be right to. I should have given her space. I should not have rushed her. I had a feeling she had run off because of me. What the hell had I done?

"You cannot blame yourself for what happened with Samara," Edgar said softly.

Edgar was very charming and knew how to lift the mood most times, but there was nothing he could do for me now.

"I'm sorry, Edgar. I just... I don't think I want to talk about Samara right now."

He nodded. "I understand completely."

We seemed to share a sudden camaraderie—it was the same way he did not wish to talk about Paula or see her face-to-face.

"Will you remain in Alpha George's pack until...?" He paused, scratching his head as he tried to complete the sentence without mentioning her name.

"I do not think I can be of much help here," I said. "I have already searched. I know that she is not in the pack. Something ominous, like magic, must have taken her away. I want to consult with Azazel."

I was not very confident in Alpha George's sorcerers, whom he had invoked to find Samara. They appeared mediocre beside Azazel. Besides, I had signed a blood oath with Azazel that ensured she could not betray me. Of course, it did not mean she couldn't prank me occasionally or even con me, but I knew that if I asked her plainly about something, she was bound to tell me the truth.

I suddenly turned to Edgar. "Azazel—was she able to make it to the ship she wanted to board?"

Edgar shrugged, but in that gesture, I knew he was hiding something. I did not wish to push or prod, but this was about Samara, and I had to be a little nosy.

"What does that mean, Edgar? I need to know."

He sighed. "Well, she... honestly, I do not know. She sort of disappeared after we let her go."

"We have to find her," I said to Edgar. "She is perhaps the only witch that we can trust in all of this ordeal."

"I understand," Edgar said. "I will do my best to find her. Even if she's in the middle of the ocean, I'll find a way to bring her back."

I nodded. "Thank you, Edgar. You really are dependable, and I know I do not give you enough credit."

A faint smile crossed his lips. "I'm just glad I can be of help."

We continued to walk quietly beside each other until my eyes caught something shiny in the dirt. I bent down at once to pick it up before I even knew why I was so drawn to it. In my hand sat Samara's pendant and the rest of her broken necklace.

I immediately called Edgar's attention to it.

He gasped. "Samara always had this on."

"Yes. What do you think? What do we make of this?"

"I don't..." Edgar stared at the chain. "Why would it be here?"

I asked myself the same, so many questions running through my mind at once.

But I did not have time to process any of those questions, nor could I wonder long why Samara's necklace would be here when she had literally disappeared in the middle of nowhere. I also knew how important this necklace was to her. I knew at least that she had never taken it off once in the time that I had been with her, and she seemed mightily protective of it. I also knew that she always stroked it whenever she felt nervous, anxious, happy—when she felt any emotion at all. The necklace was the first thing she reached for.

Before Edgar and I could ponder it further, we were interrupted by one of the Alphas from the council. Not wanting anyone else to notice the jewellery, I quickly slipped it into my pocket.

"Alpha Lucian, I was actually hoping I could speak with you privately," he said, glancing pointedly at Edgar.

Edgar nodded to me once and walked away, understanding that there were certain things only the Alpha needed to hear. Still, I noted how much I had come to depend on and trust Edgar completely—a realization that brought a flicker of unease. I knew just how dangerous complete trust could be, given how I had trusted Freya, only for her to betray me in ways I never could have imagined. Shaking off the thought of my former Beta, I focused on the old leader standing before me.

He cleared his throat. He was one of the oldest Alphas still existing in our realm. "I saw that you had a thing for the maid."

I raised an eyebrow. "The maid?"

"Yes, the one who dropped the dish onto the floor."

"Ah," was all I said, wondering why on earth he would care.

"Actually," he began, "not a maid. You could say we are related, of sorts."

"Related?" My eyebrow shot up higher.

"She is my... well, she is my granddaughter, actually."

I was shocked beyond measure. "Your granddaughter?"

And then, suddenly, things began to click. I had always felt that the pendant on her necklace looked strangely familiar. It bore the mark of the Crests—one of the original werewolf bloodlines to ever exist in the world. But how could that be, when Samara was just a human girl?

The old Alpha saw the sheer confusion on my face and chuckled softly. "You think Samara is an ordinary human, don't you?"

I said nothing, refusing to clear up his confusion or answer his prodding question.

"Well, I have to admit I have been a bit neglectful of her," he continued dismissively. "She has not been very useful to me. I mean, she is quite... well, she's worthless, sort of. She has no wolf, nothing. I am a bit embarrassed to admit that she is even a part of my line."

I continued to stare at him, my blood running cold as he degraded my mate. "So why are we having this discussion?" I asked, my voice dropping to a freezing, distant edge.

I had no desire to associate with anyone who talked down on Samara. I knew that if I had only held this fierce intolerance when Freya had done the same, Samara would never have suffered the ordeals she had endured.

The old Alpha cleared his throat again, unabashed. "Well, I can give her to you in marriage for five hundred gold coins."

"What?" I was beyond stunned. The man had no idea where Samara was, how she was faring, or how she had ended up as a maid and a slave in Alpha George's pack—yet here he was, casually trying to sell off his own blood. It was the crudest thing I had ever heard. "You are trying to sell me your granddaughter?"

He merely shrugged. "It is not a foreign concept. I mean, if she were a highly valued princess, I would give her to you for more. The dowry you would have to pay would be steep. But she is... well, she is what she is."

"I feel deeply insulted that you would speak of your own blood that way," I snapped, my jaw tight. "She is precious. Valuable. She is the warmest and kindest person I have ever met, and you should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself for thinking so little of her."

I turned on my heel and walked off, furious, only to bump directly into Alpha George.

George had a look of utter bewilderment on his face, and it was obvious he had overheard the tail end of the conversation.

"Are you trying to say..." George started, the shock in his voice mirroring my own. "Is he trying to tell us that Samara was never an ordinary human girl?"

The look of sudden epiphany on his face was identical to mine. Pieces of a larger puzzle were slamming into place all at once. I had always assumed she was fully human, yet there had constantly been something extraordinary surrounding her. Besides, true mate bonds with ordinary humans were near impossible; I had always suspected something deeper was hidden beneath the surface. But to find out she was a direct descendant of one of the most ancient and powerful werewolf lineages in existence was mind-boggling.

"I guess it makes sense now," George said out loud, letting out a dark chuckle. "Samara, Samara, Samara," he practically sang under his breath. "She was always quite the liar. I could tell something was off the second she was brought before me.”